


Over the Waves

by Squeemu



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Extra Verse compliant, Gen, Ignis has sustained mild vision impairment but can still see, M/M, Plot What Plot, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 01:57:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16777342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeemu/pseuds/Squeemu
Summary: Noct and Ignis take a well-earned vacation. 95% gen with implied romantic leaningsNoct woke to the quiet sound of waves, muted through the thin walls of the house at Cape Caem. The sun was streaming in, the light just as faded and dirty as the rest of the house. Noct didn't really care, one way or the other. The outpost was just as tired and worn-down as the rest of the world after ten years of darkness.Ignis cared, of course.





	Over the Waves

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 2nd Anniversary, FFXV!

Noct woke to the quiet sound of waves, muted through the thin walls of the house at Cape Caem. The sun was streaming in, the light just as faded and dirty as the rest of the house. Ignis insisted the windows were too high to properly clean. He kept frowning at them, though, like if he just thought about it hard enough he'd come up with a plan.

Noct didn't really care, one way or the other. The outpost was just as tired and worn-down as the rest of the world after ten years of darkness. It seemed kind of appropriate that it was crumbling away.

Ignis definitely cared, though. Noct had managed to convince him to relax for an entire day with nothing but the waves outside and the sun overhead. Ignis was restless after by the end of the first hour. By sundown, he'd rolled up his sleeves and started looking for things to do. He'd started the next morning by fixing a broken step. Then he dusted and swept and did all the dishes, even though they were still sitting unused in the cupboards.

Noct finally sat up, yawning. He could hear Ignis outside, hard at work doing ...something. And--was he _swearing?_ Shit. Ignis _never_ swore. Not even when he'd crashed the car five minutes after getting it back from Cindy. Something was wrong.

He didn't bother putting on clothes on his way out the door. "Ignis?" he called, almost falling down the porch steps in his hurry to find him.

Silence. " _Ignis!_ " he shouted, warping over to the corner of the house. 

Ignis was standing there at the side of the house with a paint brush in hand. His clothes were completely covered with wet paint, his hair slowly congealing into thick, white strands.

Noct started laughing.

Ignis sputtered. "Noctis, this isn't funny," he insisted. "This bloody ladder doesn't work."

Noct snorted. "Sure, blame the ladder."

Ignis shifted his weight, putting a hand on his hip. There were some specks of paint on his glasses. Noct had to resist the urge to reach over and pull them off. "What, pray tell, are you suggesting?"

Noct grinned at him. "Paint doesn't just knock itself over," he pointed out.

"Ah, yes, I see," Ignis said, dripping sarcasm and paint all over the ground. "It's much more likely that I preferred to paint myself than the house."

"I didn't say _that_."

Ignis bent over and held up a broken, weathered piece of wood. "The ladder," he said, holding it up, grimly triumphant.

"Huh," Noct said, looking at the piece and then the ladder. He couldn't see anything missing. "Isn't that the ladder over there?"

"It _was_ the holding shelf," Ignis sniffed.

"Guess the tools need as much repair as the house."

" _Indeed._ "

Noct almost pitied the ladder. He'd heard that tone of withering, utter disappointment before, as sharp and deadly as the blade on Ignis's spear. "Think we can repair it?"

Ignis let out a huff. "I have no doubt we could," he said, "though it may be an entirely new ladder by the end of it."

Noct glanced down the hill toward the road. "The J&M truck might have one," he said doubtfully.

Ignis sighed, pushing a hand through his hair and spreading paint to new and better locations. Noct's fingers twitched. "A good place to start," Ignis said. " _After_ I wash off this mess." He held out an arm, examining it critically. "Entirely unsalvageable."

"Maybe they can sell you a spare shirt, too," Noct grinned.

Ignis sighed again. "Perhaps." He frowned, eyes caught on the paint still dripping off his sleeve, and cleared his throat. "Noct," he said slowly, "if you could... ...turn around, perhaps, or avert your eyes, or leave the area entirely for ten minutes or so...?"

Noct blinked at him. "What?"

"I would prefer to not accidentally paint the floor of the house," he said delicately. "Though I'm afraid it's too late for my clothes."

Noct grinned at him. "Sure you don't want help stripping?"

"I have never been so certain of anything in my entire life," he said fervently.

"If you say so," Noct shrugged. He thought about it. He _could_ go down to the truck, ask about a new shirt for Ignis, see if they had a spare ladder. He could also go to the lighthouse and take in the ocean view. "I'll be at the lighthouse," Noct told him.

"Would you be so kind as to first bring me a towel?" Ignis asked, his face positively flaming under the fresh coat of paint on his cheeks.

"There's no one else around, Specs. You'll be fine."

"Noct," he said, a little desperately.

"The cat won't care," Noct told him.

"Noctis." He was almost begging.

Noct laughed, but he also went into the house to get Ignis a towel.

\- - -

Ignis came looking for him almost an hour later, joining him at the railing, a full person-width away. He had found some clean clothes, at least. The shirt seemed familiar, the fabric soft and worn and faded to a dull grey, hanging off Ignis's shoulders, loose at his waist. One of Noct's old ones, from before Altissia.

It looked-- _good_ wasn't the word Noct wanted, but it was the only one coming to mind.

"Enjoying the view?" Igins asked softly.

"Yeah," Noct breathed, pulling his eyes off Ignis and sticking them firmly back on the water. It was a beautiful day out, sunny and bright, the light reflecting off the waves. A cool breeze was blowing in, and off in the distance, a bank of clouds promising rain in the distant future. "Nice shirt."

"I can take it off, if you prefer--"

"Nah, looks good on you," Noct told him easily.

Ignis made a wounded noise low in his throat. "I beg your pardon."

"Oh yeah, that style's all the rage in Altissia," Noct said, keeping his tone serious.

"Mm." Ignis cleared his throat. "I'm afraid it doesn't quite suit me. I've the feeling I look somewhat slovenly."

"Princely," Noct corrected him. "The word you're looking for is princely."

"Hmm," Ignis agreed, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. After a minute of quiet reflection, he stepped back enthusiastically, like he'd just hatched some exciting new plan. "Care to join me this afternoon?"

"Doing what," Noct asked warily.

"Painting," Ignis beamed.

"What?" Noct groaned. "Ignis."

"It's likely to rain tomorrow," he said, and Noct checked the cloud bank again, "and I've just stripped the old paint off the south walls. The wood's weathered enough without any further water damage."

Noct heaved out a sigh. "How _much_ of the south wall did you strip." It wasn't a question, not really. Definitely not one he wanted the answer to.

Ignis opened his mouth. "Almost certainly all of it," he said, shifting his weight as though he was worried he'd dealt Noct a physical blow.

Noct groaned. " _Ignis_ ," he accused. "We're on vacation."

"A vacation that could be much better enjoyed in a proper beach house," Ignis argued. "Our own proper beach house."

" _Our_ beach house?" Noct teased.

Ignis opened his mouth. "Apologies," he said. "Your beach house, of course. I only meant--"

"I dunno," Noct shrugged, cutting him off. "I kinda liked the way you said." He kept his eyes on the ocean, like he was trying to tame a wild chocobo and didn't want it to startle. "Our beach house. Has a nice ring to it." Or like he was trying to befriend a newly hired retainer, age six, all glasses and gangly limbs and a shy smile.

Ignis shifted aimlessly, taking his glasses off and rubbing at them with his gloves. "Hmm," he said, holding them up to the light before rubbing at them more. "Well. I suppose it is a nice getaway for a king and his friends."

The thought of Prompto and Gladio coming here and filling the quiet with chatter was… it was nice. Eventually. Right now it just felt kind of overwhelming. He was still getting used to the sunshine and a physical body, never mind being the king. He wasn't ready for that, not yet.

And the house _definitely_ wasn't ready for a party. It had already looked worn down when they'd found it ten years ago. Now it was on the verge of falling apart.

He squared his shoulders. "Painting," he said grimly, heading back to the elevator. "Right. Let's do this."

Ignis cleared his throat. "Do you mind if I continue wearing this shirt?" he asked on the way down. "There's a good chance it will be covered in paint by the end of the day."

"Knock yourself out."

"You might want to consider wearing old clothes yourself," Ignis added.

"You doubt my painting skill?" Noct grinned, stepping out of the elevator.

"A rather severe understatement."

"I'll have you know I'm a great painter," Noct said, stopping to look at Ignis, a hand on his hip.

Ignis laughed, entirely undignified. It was a good sound. "Have you ever painted in your life?"

"In my high school art class," Noct argued. "I got an A."

Ignis made another pained noise. "You are referring to the portrait you made of the Lady Lunafreya?"

"Yep."

"The one your teacher said resembled your great grandmother, Queen Regina?"

"That's the one."

Ignis's shoulders shook with silent laughter. He adjusted his glasses. "Painting a wall is an entirely different technique than painting portraits of your loved ones and/or ancestors," he said gravely heading for the house.

"It doesn't have to be," Noct argued, following him.

Ignis arched an eyebrow. "You plan on painting a mural of your great grandmother?"

"So? What's the problem?"

Ignis took that in. "I'm afraid I must object. It _is_ our beach house now, is it not?"

"That doesn't answer the question."

"Much as I honor and respect your lineage, Majesty," Ignis told him, "I would prefer to not have them constantly peering overhead, judging my inability to keep you comfortably housed and fed."

Noct rolled his eyes. "If you say so."

"I do," Ignis assured him.

\- - -

The next morning, Noct woke up to the steady patter of rain against the side of the house. A perfect day for sleeping in. He yawned, rolling over. Ignis's bed was already empty, the sheets pulled up and the covers pulled down. He'd still gotten up early, as usual.

By the time Noct finally made his way downstairs, he could smell bacon and fresh coffee. Almost made getting up worth it. Almost.

"Morning," Noct mumbled.

Ignis glanced over, mouth tugging up a little. "Morning," he greeted, cheerful but not trying to outcompete the sun for once.

"Smells good," Noct told him, running a hand through his hair.

Ignis's eyes flicked up, mouth twitching in amusement or disapproval.

"Ugh," Noct groaned, patting at his hair. "Is it really that bad?"

"Perhaps the astral Ramuh visited you in the night," Ignis suggested, "or you were struck by lightning during the storm."

Noct ignored that insult. "Storm?"

"Indeed. The thunder didn't waken you?"

He shook his head.

"Good to hear," Ignis said warmly. He stepped away from the stove to pour Noct a cup of coffee, mixing in the milk and sugar. "Breakfast should be ready soon."

Noct took a sip of his coffee. Just right. "So what are you going to do today?" he asked, making it into a challenge. "Can't strip any more paint if it's raining."

"No," he mused, "I suppose not." He put a hand on his hip, turning the bacon absently as he considered. "I have meant to re-stain the table and floorboards. Or perhaps I could add some trim to the curtains."

Noct groaned. "Ignis," he protested.

"Was there something you wanted to do," Ignis asked, amused. He made it sound like Noct had never wanted to do anything in his life.

"We have that pack of cards," Noct told him. "And a set of darts."

"A set of rusted darts," Ignis corrected.

Noct rolled his eyes. "They're rusty, not broken. They'll be fine."

Ignis hesitated. "The metal could have weakened," he tried, cracking two eggs into the pan.

Noct grinned, crossing his arms. "Afraid I'll win?"

"No," Ignis said calmly, but the gleam in his eyes gave him away. He wanted this, Noct could tell. "Only concerned I may very well ruin your day by delivering a crushing defeat."

"You _wish_. You'll be slinking back to polish the tables in no time."

Ignis smiled, sharp and sure. Noct was so ready to wipe it off his face. "If you insist." He gave the eggs one last mix. "But first: breakfast."

Noct didn't protest.

\- - -

Breakfast was good, like always. And, like always, Ignis insisted on doing the dishes as soon as they'd finished the last sip of coffee. It wasn't like the dishes couldn't wait. Noct had told him plenty of times to leave them for later. Ignis always agreed and then just went and did them anyway.

It was infuriating, but at least this way Noct got to watch him. It was almost soothing. There was this comfortable, familiar rhythm to it, almost like the rain falling outside. Like his distant memories of the Citadel back when he'd been too young to know that _home_ wasn't the the same thing as _safe_.

Ignis finished the last dish without comment, finally lifting his eyes to glance at Noct, still at the table. He frowned, drying his hands off absently on the towel. "Is that a bird's nest on your head," he said finally, tone perfectly dry, "or have you just failed to comb your hair for the last few days?"

Noct ran a hand through it. There _were_ a few tangles. "Didn't you hear? I'm on vacation."

Ignis sniffed. "That's no reason to neglect basic hygiene."

"I washed it!" Noct protested.

"Hmm." He set a hand on his hip, taking Noct in with a considering and judgmental look. "Perhaps it's time for a haircut."

Noct groaned. "Now? You've been looking at it all morning." He thought about it. "All _week._ "

"Comb it or cut it," Ignis said firmly.

"Since when did you start giving me orders?"

Ignis moved from behind the kitchen counter to look down his nose at him, eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. Noct wondered if he would obey a royal decree that no advisors were allowed to wear glasses indoors, where they were safely hidden from bright lights. "Since your majesty has forsaken cleanliness."

Ugh. Ignis. "You really want to cut my hair that badly?"

Ignis shifted his weight, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Merely a suggestion," he offered, refusing to look Noct in the eyes.

"Ignis," Noct protested.

"You look like a hobo," Ignis said, the words bursting out like he'd been holding them in for weeks. "You are the chosen King of Lucis, Bringer of the Dawn, and yet you persist in hiding behind this nigh unmanageable mess." He gestured, violently, before securing his arm safely back in front of his chest. "Your appearance is a disgrace to your line, your clothes do you no justice, and the length of your hair seems specifically designed to hide all of your features." He glared at a spot on the wall just past Noct's shoulder. "Which I can barely see to begin with."

Noct stared at him. He meant the injury to his eyes. The crystal'd healed some of it, but--it still hurt to think about too hard. "Wh--you--"

Ignis refused to look at him.

"Does it really bother you?"

Ignis's gaze slowly drifted back to meet Noct's. "Yes," he said eventually. "I suppose it does."

Noct took a breath, let it out. "Fine," he sighed. "You can cut my hair. I don't think there's anything to do about the clothes, though."

"Perhaps not," Ignis demurred. "At least not here in Caem. The market truck carries only a small variety of clothing." He hesitated. "You... truly don't mind if we trim your hair?"

"Go nuts," Noct said. It had to happen at some point, right?

Ignis smiled faintly. "I'll try to restrain myself."

Noct laughed. "Not gonna completely shave my head, huh?"

"Certainly not," Ignis said, horrified. "Something simple and timely. A pompadour, perhaps, or an old-fashioned comb-over."

"A _comb-over_ ," Noct protested.

"It certainly would force you to comb your hair," Ignis mused.

"I take it back," Noct told him. "We're throwing darts, instead."

Ignis laughed.

"Is your eyesight really that bad?" Noct asked, the question just kind of tumbling out of his mouth. He knew there'd been some damage, but--

"I was exaggerating somewhat for effect," Ignis assured him, "though the finer details do tend to disappear in bright light."

"Like my expressions?" he pressed.

Ignis looked pained. "Like your expressions," he admitted. "Particularly when partially covered by your hair."

Noct had known as much, more or less. It still hurt to hear. "Just don't give me a comb-over."

"But you have no objections to the pompadour," he mused.

Noct shrugged, grinning. "Why not? You're rocking the look."

Ignis sputtered. "I--! A _pompadour!_ "

"You heard me."

"My hair style is dignified and--and _subtle_ ," Ignis informed him.

"Isn't that what you want mine to look like?"

"I am not giving you a pompadour."

Noct smirked at him. "If you insist."

"And would you like your haircut before or after I crush you in darts?"

"Before," Noct said immediately. "Otherwise you'll be waiting a long time."

Ignis's mouth curved. "We'll see."

\- - -

The haircut itself wasn't bad. Noct even kind of enjoyed the cutting itself, but getting ready for it was a pain. Ignis made him brush his hair, then comb it. And then he had to put on one of his old t-shirts, still covered in flecks of paint.

"I thought you wanted me to look _more_ dignified," Noct objected. Ignis ignored him.

They moved from the bathroom to the kitchen to the porch before finally settling into the kitchen again. "Better lighting," Ignis proclaimed.

"Then by all means," Noct said. He definitely wanted Ignis to be able to see what he was doing.

Ignis got him settled into a chair and draped a towel around his neck before producing a pair of scissors. They didn't look like any of the scissors Noct had seen around the house. He wasn't sure he wanted to know where Ignis had found them. He wasn't keeping them in the armiger, was he?

Ignis walked around him for a bit, frowning and tapping his chin, scrutinizing every angle of his face. "Sit still," Ignis said eventually, and stepped forward, comb in hand and the scissors in the other.  
Noct sat still.

It was kind of relaxing, actually, letting Ignis work his hair over. Ignis seemed to feel the same way, his entire focus on Noct, movements calm and unhurried as he gently worked his fingers through Noct's hair. It felt nice. Noct didn't even have to do anything besides sit there and tilt his head every so often. And he could relax, safe in the knowledge that Ignis would never give him a bad cut.

Still. "You've done this before, right?" Noct asked.

Ignis hummed in quiet acknowledgment. "Prompto and Gladio both required the occasional trim," he confirmed.

Huh. Noct hadn't thought about that. "When did Gladio start growing his hair out, anyway?"

Ignis ran the comb through his hair, holding it in place with his fingers. "Perhaps six years ago?" _Snip._ "I believe he grew weary of the upkeep." Ignis paused, snipping some more hair. "And the convenience of getting it cut by a friend ceased to be an option once I became more mobile, again."

"Huh?"

Ignis cleared his throat. "My eyesight did not recover immediately," he confessed. "I spent several years adjusting to a lower quality of vision."

Noct couldn't find any words. What could he possibly say to that?

"I moved about the continent after that," Ignis added quietly, "studying the cosmogony and ancient histories." He didn't sound too happy at the memories.

"Well, it worked," Noct told him. He forced out a breath, made his hands to relax. "I--I'm sorry, Ignis."

"For what?" Ignis sounded genuinely curious.

"All the--the _shit_ you went through," Noct pushed out. He was getting his _hair_ cut and wearing a towel around his neck and he still felt like he couldn't breathe, his chest was so tight. "All of you. For me."

Ignis's hands had stilled. He was standing behind Noct, and in the silence, he could've had any expression. After an eternity, he finally said, voice quiet and painfully sincere, "It was worth it." A hand found Noct's shoulder, careful and hesitant. "I would pay the price a hundred times over. A thousand times, and do so gladly." Ignis's hand stayed there another moment before vanishing.

Noct wished he would put it back.

"I would have paid any price," Ignis continued, voice quiet but fervent, "for this. Here, now, with you."

Noct couldn't breathe all over again, his throat aching. "Ignis," he managed finally.

Silence. It was impossible to tell what Ignis was thinking. Noct started to turn his head, see what expression was on his face.

"I'm not finished!" Ignis said, alarmed.

Noct settled back in the chair. "What if that's part of the price?" he said, trying for a teasing tone.

Ignis let out a short breath. "An uneven hair cut?"

"Looking at it," Noct said. "Every day. An unkempt king."

Ignis laughed, low and shaky. "Truly a terrible sacrifice."

"And losing at darts," Noct continued, on a roll. "I hope you're prepared."

Ignis made a noise of protest, his fingers threading through Noct's hair again. "And how much practice at throwing darts did you get over the last ten years?"

"Probably the same amount as you."

"Hmph." Ignis worked in silence for a few minutes, but Noct could feel his smile in the way his fingers moved, gently untangling stubborn knots, coaxing his hair straight.

"I'm the chosen king, Ignis," Noct told him. "It's my destiny to win."

Ignis laughed, harder than necessary, his hand tangled in Noct's hair. "Apologies, then, your majesty," he said, voice rich at Noct's ear. "My destiny was stronger."

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe someday this will get a second chapter that consists entirely of them playing darts, but I really wanted to have something to post for the 2nd anniversary of the game. ;__; 
> 
> Also, uh, I don't know much about painting or house renovation in general, so apologies if I got any of those details wrong.


End file.
